


As In What? Errol?

by What_we_are



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Best Friends, High School, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_we_are/pseuds/What_we_are
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Cute snippets from the life of Flynn and Louis, including where Flynn got his name. (Walter Sr.'s first guess was incorrect.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	As In What? Errol?

“Your butt is sticking up. You’re supposed to look like a plank of wood.”

The academic councilor let them take PE together every semester. Louis helped Junior with his physical therapy home exercises and Junior returned the favor by counting Louis’s crunches and giving him pointers on his plank.

“It’s harder than it looks, man,” Louis complained.

“Now you’re sagging. Come on. You said you could do five minutes.”

“How long has it been?” His arms began to shake.

“One minute seven seconds.”

“Shit. Am I straight now?”

“Yeah you’re good. Keep going.”

“Dude, after this I’m gonna chill on the sit-down bikes with you.”

“It says here you’re gonna run three miles in thirteen minutes. That’s what you put on the weekly plan for Ms. Sanchez.”

“This sucks so bad.” The blonde teenager stayed a few seconds more before collapsing on his stomach. “You should try it. It’s terrible.”

“Great. Hey Louis, that reminds me, you should try this new frozen yogurt place: it’s terrible.”

Louis laughed. “You doing yoga tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll try.”

“You’ll be great at it. Some of it is stuff you already do: spinal balance from on your back, child’s pose, legs-up-the-wall.”

“I though you guys stood on one foot for an hour. How is legs-up-the-wall even a pose? There’s a wall.”

“I don’t know. Ask the teacher.” Louis got up and sat next to him on the bench. “How come you always wear long sleeves?”

“It feels better with the arm brace part of my crutches.”

“I didn't even think about that. People probably think you've got a bunch of tattoos under there.”

“Just two,” Junior slapped one forearm, ‘Master Shake’ and the other, ‘Frylock.’”

Louis cracked up before saying, “That’s dumb.” They almost always laughed at each other's jokes. The boys looked at each other and simultaneously wished they were alone instead of at the group exercise room.

Junior adjusted his shorts. His belated comeback was “Your weekly fitness goals are dumb.”

* * *

 

 

Louis was giving her the hard sell.

“Mrs. White, petting a cat can lower your blood pressure. That would be good for Walt Jr. right?”

“His blood pressure is fine. It would be bad for my blood pressure to worry about a cat scratching the baby’s eyes out.”

Her son thought she was being ridiculous. “Mom, I’ll train it to be nice.”

“You have scratches on your hands, both of you.”

It was true. They had tiny scratches and bite indentations from rubbing the kittens' bellies. They didn't hurt though, it was just part of the game.

Skyler continued, “Get out of the kitchen unless you’re helping make dinner.”

Junior gave her a disappointed look.

“Honey, they’re keeping the mother and two kittens, right? You’ll see them all the time when you’re over there.”

He frowned. His mom kissed him on the cheek and told him to go watch TV.

* * *

 

 

It may have started a year ago. It happened so slowly that it was hard to say.

Louis would massage Junior’s hands in the hope that it helped the muscles to relax and stretch. Junior would touch Louis’s wrist when he admired the new friendship bracelets he’d made. Their hands would touch when they pet the cat or reached for chips at the same time. Feet or knees would rest against each other while they lay on the floor listening to music. At the movie theater once, a hand rub was reciprocated and became hand holding, which they didn't talk about afterwards. They both liked being squished together in a two man tent on the Corbett’s back lawn.

Louis woke up in their own little tent world with Junior’s arm across his chest. He stroked the arm, wondering if Junior was awake.

Junior asked “Are you too hot? I sorta flung part of my sleeping bag over you.”

“No, it’s not too hot.” Louis didn't want the physical contact to end. He put his hand over his friend’s hand. “I like this.”

“Do you want to kiss?”

“Do you? Right now you mean?”

“Or ever. Do you ever want to kiss me?” Junior asked sincerely without accusation.

“Yes.”

“Maybe not yet though?”

“I don’t want to screw up what we have. People keep friends their whole life, but couples are always fighting and breaking up. You’re my best friend.”

As they were agreeing not to kiss they moved in closer, face to face.

“I don’t think we’d fight,” Junior whispered.

* * *

 

 

He sat on the train station bench right next to Louis. They hadn't talked much about it beyond the logistics of how the flyer should look and where they should hang them.

“He’s going to show up soon,” Louis offered.

“I know. Uncle Hank is using his DEA connections to help. It could have been a drug interaction that made him faint or something. Or maybe he’s driving out to see my grandma and he didn't think to tell us. I called her, but I didn't say anything that would make her worry. She would have said something if she had talked to him.”

“Maybe he went to an Indian sweat lodge type healing thing.”

Junior shrugged. It was possible. “He’s been acting so weird since the diagnosis, but he’s never disappeared before. I’m sorry my family has so much drama.”

Louis said “Dude” with hurt in his voice. “It’s not your fault that all these things are happening.”

“Remember when my CP was the only dramatic thing about my family?”

“Barely. I remember when they were freaking out about money because of the baby.”

“What if he’s not back in time for the baby being born and I have to be in the room and hold my mom’s hand?”

Louis reassured him. “He’ll be back. We’re gonna find him really soon.” After and minute of watching Junior stare into space he added, “Marie would be there for the baby thing.”

Junior rested his head on Louis shoulder and physically relaxed. “Yeah. Aunt Marie would do it.” Without moving, he asked, “Am I embarrassing you?”

“No. You could stay over tonight if you want.”

Junior reluctantly sat up. “I have to be home in case we get news.”

All the search effort and worry ended in a punch line that wasn't funny. Of course Junior was glad his dad had been found, but why was it in such a stupid inexplicable way. He read websites on lung cancer and he'd never seen anything about “fugue states.”

While his dad was turning into an infant that would wonder away naked and confused, his Uncle Hank was staring in his own action movie. Walt Jr. wished that when he went back, Hank’s shoot-out could be the topic of school conversations instead of the chemistry teacher being naked in a grocery store.

At the hospital, he wanted his dad to recognize him before they hugged. He wasn't so desperate to have his dad back that he’d pretend. It was a matter of self-respect.

The school administration had done a good job of enforcing the no bullying rule. There was occasional mocking, but for the most part everybody was used to Junior. His CP had become a non-issue and now his dad had fucked everything up and made him a target all over again.

Louis pulled the modified flyer off Junior’s locker and crumpled it into his pocket. It wasn't as clever as the “Have you seen- my pants?” bit or the ones that illustrated a naked Mr. White in the space below his face. This one had “Wallabee Dick” across it in sloppy purple marker, like they’d taped it up first without having a plan of what to write.

“What did that one say?” Junior asked, not really expecting an answer.

“It doesn't matter. It’s going to blow over soon.”

“I wanna change my name.”

“I vote Clark.”

Junior considered it while he spun the combination on his locker. Sometimes he went past his numbers and had to have Louis do it, but his fingers were working pretty well.

“That could be cool.”

“I was kidding.”

“Why? Clark Kent?”

His friend spelled it out, “Louis and Clark. Lewis and Clark.”

“That’d be cool actually.”

Even though Louis had been joking, Clark was the front runner for a day or two until they saw the trailer for Tron: Legacy. They got the original old version, so they'd be caught up. Louis’s TV was three times as big as the White’s and sometimes his twin sister would make caramel corn, so they watched it at his house. It was also preferable to sit close instead of in separate recliners.

While the closing credits played at low volume Junior said, “Sam is going to be awesome in the new one, but his dad is pretty kick-ass too.” He hadn't specified that he was talking about the name change again, but Louis knew.

He nodded encouragingly. Anything was better than Junior’s middle name. That would be a worst case scenario that he wanted to avoid at any cost. Junior probably wouldn't go there, but Louis would feel better once the issue was resolved.

“Kevin is an okay name. It doesn't rhyme with any cuss words.”

“No, their last name.”

“Oh. That would be bad-ass.”

* * *

 

 

Louis popped opened the beer that Flynn had swiped from his parent’s party. It was warm, but he took the first drink and handed it over. They were in Flynn's room, supposedly quizzing each other on vocabulary.

“How come the cool stuff never happens when I’m over? Your dad gives you tequila. Your uncle lets you hold his gun. When I come over it’s just your mom being grumpy and your dad being shifty and having to leave all the sudden.”

“Cause you don’t come to the parties. They’re different at parties. It’s probably better that you weren't there, cause we did three shots. Each. You wouldn't have been able to handle it.” Flynn anticipated the playful arm smack. He didn't try to block it. If anything, he wanted it to lead to some wrestling.

“No way your dad gave you three shots of tequila.”

“He did. Ask him. I kept up with him and Uncle Hank.”

“Why would he do that? You and me get goofy from sharing a beer.”

He shrugged.

Louis wasn't sure what to think. It didn't sound like something Mr. White would do. “Did it feel good?”

Flynn’s bravado was gone. “At first. Then I got sick.”

“Sick? Like sick sick?”

“In the pool.” He hadn't planned on admitting that part. The beer made him fuzzy and honest.

“Aw. I should have been there. He shouldn't make you drink so much you get sick.”

“He didn't make me. We were having fun.”

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Am I tagging this correctly? I can't believe no one has ever written about Louis.
> 
> According to the credits, Louis was one of the two guys who asked Junior to buy beer then abandoned him when the cop showed up. I'm positive Louis wasn't there that night, even played by a different actor. 
> 
> I'm just guessing about stretches for CP. 
> 
> Louis really is wearing friendship bracelets in “Down” (so cute).
> 
> Edit: I had to move things around for canon chronology.


End file.
